I own nothing but Nicki.

CHAPTER 32

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

"Oswald!"

Fish's voice felt like an axe to Oswald's aching head. He had just walked in, stumbling into the welcoming dim lighting of the club from the harsh sunlight outside. He was tired, hung over, and that appeared to be the least of his worries.

Fish was crossing the space between them in strides that even Oswald had to admit were impressive for the shoes she was wearing. More impressive than that was the look in her eyes that burrowed into him and made him feel as though he would burst into flames. He had thought the sun was intense this morning, but it was a dim bulb compared to the fire radiating off of his boss.

"Guilzine told me a little story last night and I would absolutely loooove to hear what you think about it," she snapped. Oswald felt himself literally retreating from the woman, shuffling his feet backwards away from her. There was always something sinister in the honey-like pur the woman usually used when she was scolding her boys, but this was another level entirely.

"Miss Mooney, I can explain-" he tried, but she jutted a finger in his face, wagging it and clicking her tongue sharply.

"Did I SAY I wanted to hear you tell the story?" Her voice was lower, and the mock mothering intonation had returned but the violent undercurrent was still tangible.

"No Miss Mooney, but I-"

"Quiet." She snapped. And he clenched his jaw shut tightly. Fish was a good deal shorter than him, but he still felt himself swallow hard as she glared up into his face. He rarely saw this wild side of her temper. He hadn't since the night Nikolai's men had tried taking advantage of Nicki. But then he supposed it made sense that now it would resurface…

"Butch told me he walked in on you trying to take advantage of our dear, sweet, baby girl while she was intoxicated-"

Oswald couldn't bite his tongue. "That is not what happened. Miss Mooney please-"

"You didn't know she was intoxicated?" She said, flatly.

That hit a nerve, much more that Oswald cared to admit. He could feel himself growing desperate, and out of both emotion and tactic he made no effort to hide it. "She kissed me. She kissed me first and I just thought…" He trailed off as Mooney's eyes had widened and her head slowly tilted to the side. "I thought…"

"Sh sh sh sh…" His bosses demeanor had changed. She was suddenly softer, and was reaching out to him with a hand to cup both of his cheeks. A look of pity had taken over her eyes but he couldn't miss the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "That she actually liked you?" Fish finished for him. She pursed her lips into a sympathetic look. "Oh Oswald, my silly boy. I should have known. I should have known as soon as Butch told me. You weren't being bad, you were just…misguided."

Oswald fought to keep his mouth shut. He was burning with indignation at her patronizing tone, but this was good. Or better at least. Now he wasn't in trouble.

"We'll forgive the indiscretion," she continued, "And of course you'll have to apologize to Nicholetta. The poor thing is probably mortified." Oswald cringed and Fish smirked. She gave him a small pat on the cheek before adding, "You should have listened to me. I warned you to stay away from her. It's not good for person to dwell too much on pipe dreams."

"Yes Miss Mooney," Oswald said softly. He ducked his head and started to move passed her but she stopped him with a taloned hand to his chest. He stood up a little straighter as she pointed a sharp nail towards his face.

"One more thing…" All warmth had dropped from her and only sternness remained. "The next time you cross that line, I'll be sure her brother is the one having a…talk…with you about it."

And with that, she turned and strode away, leaving a very unsettled Oswald behind.

Xxxxx

Nicki stepped out of the cab and into the sunlight the next morning (and she used the term morning loosely…it was one in the afternoon) and winced. Even with her sunglasses, the blazing sun was making her aching head feel as though it might burst. So this was what a hangover felt like. No wonder Frankie had always been so irritable with her when he had suffered from similar ailments.

As she stumbled into the door of the club, she felt a newfound appreciation for Fish's penchant for dark spaces and removed her sunglasses with a sigh. Some of the showgirls were already at work on a routine, Butch was reasoning with a drummer about salary, Fish Mooney was relaxing in a booth watching the girls, and Oswald and Lazlo were at the bar. Lazlo was wiping down glasses and Oswald (who judging by the way he kept rubbing his forehead was feeling similar to Nicki) was thumbing through record books for…whatever it is he looked for in those. Nicki realized that she actually had no idea what they kept track of. Frankie had tried to show her once but she had taken one look at the hieroglyphics on the page and zoned out.

As she made her way over to Oswald, she could see over his shoulder that his pages contained the same type of gibberish. His long fingers spun the pen as he worked. Those long fingers that had tangled into her hair, held her…she could feel her face get hot at the memory.

"How are you feeling," she asked softly.

Oswald jumped and swiveled on his stool to face her. To her surprise, he didn't calm down when he saw it was her, but seemed to get more tense. "I umm…." He started. "What?"

She gave him a small smile. His eyes were wide and captivating and she remembered how they had looked at her last night. What his pointed nose felt like against her cheek, the way she could taste the sweet, sticky wine on his lips… "How are you feeling," she repeated.

He gave her a weak look before averting his eyes. "Headache," he said simply. And then he turned and went back to his book, clearly ending the conversation.

For a moment, Nicki stared at him, caught off guard and unsure of what to do with this cold version of Oswald she hadn't seen before. After a few seconds deliberation, she slid on the stool next to him, and couldn't miss the way he stiffened as she did so. "Am…I interrupting something?"

He cast her a glance and then rested the side of his face in the palm of his hand, covering his cheeks that she could only guess were turning pink based on the color his ears were gaining. "No…well not really…I…." His eyes darted away again (in the same direction as before, she noted and wondered if maybe his looking to the right was a sign for his discomfort she hadn't picked up on until now) before he finally put down his pen with deliberation and looked at her. "How are you feeling."

Nicki was slightly taken aback by the question. It wasn't sympathetic, or concerned, but calculating. As if he were looking for something. His eyes were a different kind of intense than they had been the night before and his lips, those soft lips that had been so sweet from the wine, were in a hard line. Unsure of what to do, she tried to give a light laugh that fell a bit short of convincing. "Hungover," she stated, tapping her temple.

"We both had too much." He did not return any of her joke, but said it as a blunt statement, his face remaining stoic. Or his best effort at stoic anyways. If it wasn't so obvious that something was wrong she might have laughed at him for his attempt at it because it definitely wasn't a disguise he wore well. His bright eyes and demeanor were much too expressive to be convincing on this front. He turned back to his book. "I apologize for my behavior last night." He added the last part while delivering another side long glance to the right and Nicki realized exactly what the issue was. He wasn't looking away out of nerves, he was looking at Fish Mooney, seeing if she was paying attention.

Nicki was mortified. She had thrown herself at him, all but pinned him down on a chair, and he hadn't wanted her to do any of it. He had been so nice (as nice as he was to everyone) and she had mistaken his politeness for….But she had thought that maybe he had actually wanted her to. Maybe he had actually liked her.

She thought back and realized that she had misread everything, feeling her cheeks flare up in embarrassment. He was always cordial, always polite, to everyone. How conceited she had been to think she was special. Of course, she should have known. There was such a huge difference in his quiet shyness towards her and the absolute captivated attention he reserved for Fish Mooney. She was stupid for not noticing. And not only had her advances been unwelcome, she could have gotten him in trouble as well. Suddenly she realized why he didn't want to talk to her, and realized that there was no place she wanted to be LESS than on this bar stool next to him.

"Yeah, me too." She tried to keep her voice even. "I shouldn't have…I'm sorry." He looked up, his eyes calculating again. She tried to hide her humiliation with another laugh, but it caught in her throat and just sounded strangled. She was sure she looked pathetic under his watchful eyes and looked away. "I just wanted to tell you that…ummm…"

Xxxxxx

"I shouldn't have…I'm sorry."

Oswald watched her, trying to keep his expression blank. To disguise his embarrassment and keep his pride. But this was not going the way he had thought it would. He felt his iciness he was trying so hard to maintain melt a little as she gave choked laugh. She almost seemed…hurt. But why? She was the one who had been embarrassed. Embarrassed to have been caught with him. It stuck like a knife in his memory that she had made no effort to defend him when Butch implied that he had taken advantage of her. When he hadn't.

Who are you trying to convince Oswald, said a voice in his head.

"I just wanted to tell you that…ummm…"

Oswald watched her fix her eyes on the table. Tell me what? To stay away from you? That you're sorry? That it did mean something?

The last part drifted through his mind and stirred more in him than any of the others.

"…that we should just pretend like last night didn't happen."

And there it was. The knife. The expected becoming reality. She wasn't hurt by his passiveness, she was embarrassed to talk about last night.

"I just think that…you know…we made a mistake…" A mistake…

"And I don't want to ruin our friendship because of…" Friendship…

Oswald had heard enough. He held up his hand to stop her and she finally met his gaze. She looked anxious and fidgety. Oswald put on his best, fake smile. The one he normally reserved for difficult musicians and contrary guests. "Honestly, I don't remember a thing," he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

A look of relief washed over her face and she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Oswald let the faux look slide off his face as the gesture left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he quickly recovered it before she could pull back and see.

She looked relieved, but there was still something in her eyes that caught Oswald's attention. What it was though, he wasn't sure.

"Partners?" she asked hopefully, jutting out a hand with an extended pinky.

Oswald held his smile, finding it a little easier to do so now. So they would never be romantically involved. That was fine with him. As long as she was still an asset, he could be content. Reaching out and linking his pinky with hers he agreed, "Partners."

Thank you Guest and PineappleGernade for the reviews! I'm so glad you guys are following this and I hope it's still living up to your expectations. This definitely isn't one of the better written chapters but I wanted to take a minute to clarify the unclarified feelings in their relationship. Also, we're about to start moving into the plot of Season one so fasten your seatbelts y'all!